


The Last Resort

by Lovelyloki



Category: Peter Pan (2003), Peter Pan - Fandom, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 02:50:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5317661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovelyloki/pseuds/Lovelyloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He leaned in close, so close that she could feel the whispers of his words as they rolled off his tongue. His eyes glowed with a murderous light, his hook curving cruelly in the soft flesh beneath her chin. "I would not, if I were you, finish that sentence, Darling," he snarled. "Not if you want to keep your tongue in your pretty mouth."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Resort

He didn't come..

The words repeated themselves, running round and round in circles within the inescapable barriers of her mind. At first they were quiet; they held no meaning. Then they began to whisper, and murmur, and shout, until she could hear nothing else. 

Why didn't he come...?

Wendy Darling could not look away from her hand. The cold, glinting metal grabbed her attention at every opportunity, demanding and cruel. The delicate golden band that wrapped around her pale finger belied every good and innocent intention that should accompany a wedding ring, instead screaming at her the same words that were racing through her mind. 

He promised, he promised, he...

He lied.

Tears pricked at the back of her eyes, but she refused herself even the relief that a good cry would bring. This was her punishment. She had believed the words of a young boy, savoring them and building her future upon them. She'd been so incredibly stupid. Now she had to pay the price, a life filled with driveling socialites and a dull, incompetent husband. Oh, William wasn't all that bad, if only he could hold an intelligent conversation and stop staring at her chest. She shuddered to think of their upcoming wedding night. But such a life as this she'd doomed herself to.

"Of course I'll come back, Wendy! Couldn't leave you here, you might forget about me!" 

Sunny laughter still echoed in her ears, cruelly mocking in memory. Forget about him, indeed. Every time the slightest shadow shivered in the emptiness of her old nursery, she jumped to attention. Sometimes she was sure she heard tiny bells outside her window, but when she threw the frames open only cold silence awaited her. No, she had never forgotten her dear Peter Pan. He had forgotten her. 

Wiping at her eyes, Wendy resolved to put away her silly childish dreams and focus on the approaching reality. She was to become the perfect, simpering wife to William Stone, her father's accounting associate. Not a bad catch, really. She'd never want for anything, would have scores of servants to take care of all the chores and cooking, and would never have to lift a finger. What an absolutely pointless existence. She twisted the culpable bit of metal on her finger.

The wedding wasn't for several months, as William’s mother had insisted that anything other than a white winter wedding was not to be entertained for a moment. Unwilling to rouse her mother-in-law-to-be's wrath just yet, Wendy had agreed. Never mind that she'd much rather be married in the warm sun with fresh dirt between her bare toes. She doubted such behavior was entirely appropriate for the future wife of Mr. Stone. 

She'd been so sure Peter would rescue her before any of the London boys could claim any part of her. Her astonishment, then, was unimaginable at stepping into her living room to see an unwelcome suitor laughing with her parents. Her mother had beamed at her while her father cleared his throat. 

"Wendy, my dear, you remember Mr. Stone?" He'd glanced at the younger man next to him, an uncharacteristic smile playing on his lips.

She had nodded, curtseying demurely and offering her hand to the guest. He kissed it just a moment longer than was proper, and she’d taken the opportunity to appraise him. Weak, watery blue eyes reminded her of a china doll she'd had as a girl, as did the flaxen gold locks and pale skin. The hand that held hers was softer than her own, and she was sure the exuding scent of roses wafted off his person. He straightened with a smile, and she noticed he was barely a few inches taller than she. He looked, she'd decided, as though the slightest wind would bowl him over.

"Ms. Darling, you look radiant today." His eyes had raked her, nearly a physical caress. She'd held back a shiver, choosing instead to stare coolly at him. 

"Thank you, sir. May I inquire the reason behind your pleasantly unexpected visit to our humble abode?" 

"Oh, Wendy, it's so exciting!" Her mother jumped in, having apparently been waiting patiently for introductions to be made and done with. "Mr. Stone wishes to-"

"Dear," interrupted her father. "I believe William wanted to take our Wendy out for a stroll in the gardens, didn't you, my boy?" 

Wendy's heart sank more with each word spoken. Her father's peculiar joviality along with her mother's unconstrained joy made for an easily solved question. Perhaps she could wiggle her way out of it? 

"Actually, I've been feeling rather faint today, and I was just on my to my bedroom for a rest." She spoke quickly. "Perhaps another time, if it is not terribly urgent, sir?"

"Come now, Wendy," her father chided. "William has come all this way to speak with you. I insist you acquiesce to his wishes."

The man in question crooked a knowing smile in her direction. "I assure you, madam, this will be of significant interest to you.

She sighed, her last resort so quickly dashed. "Of course, by all means. I'll show you the gardens." 

The moment they left the house, William’s assured swagger seemed to deflate. They walked along in an awkward silence, until he had grabbed her hand and pulled her down beside him on a stone bench. Once seated, he did not let go of her, but continued to stroke his fingers up and down her arm. Wendy fidgeted uncomfortably, but was unable to dislodge him. He gave her a nervous grin, pearly whites exposed. She hasn't the slightest idea how to begin all this, so she supposed she'd let him take the lead. After a moment, he did.

"Wendy, my sweet girl," he began, clasping both her hands in his own. "I have been in constant turmoil. You must allow me to tell you of my feelings, before they crush my heart with their aching intensity!"

Wendy said nothing, her mind whirling with the strangeness of it all.

He continued, looking into her eyes beseechingly. "I love you, my heart. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Say you'll be mine, I beg of you, and end my misery!" He extracted a ring out from inside his waistcoat, and slipped it on her finger.

She stared at the troublesome piece of jewelry that sat cold on her hand. It was beautiful, to be sure, with its sparkling garnets and delicate golden arches. She knew she had no choice. Her parents were already complaining of the strain of an unmarried daughter, destined to be an old maid. If she chose William, he would at least treat her with a modicum of respect, unlike the other men her father would likely foist her on as a last resort. Her fate, like the precious gems in this ring, was sealed. She accepted.


End file.
